Hands All Over
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: "Somehow, each time they were together, he was able to make her feel like it was the first time all over again. He placed his hands on her body with such care and awe that it made her feel special, like she was something to be treasured and protected and cared for, not just used quickly and then thrown aside." Casey/Dawson, established relationship. One-shot.


Title: Hands All Over

Author: fais2688

Pairing: Matt Casey/Gabriela Dawson

Rating: M

Summary: _Somehow, each time they were together, he was able to make her feel like it was the first time all over again. He placed his hands on her body with such care and awe that it made her feel special, like she was something to be treasured and protected and cared for, not just used quickly and then thrown aside_. **Casey/Dawson, established relationship.**

Author's Note: This is just a random little smutty/fluffy one-shot. It's a little graphic. I hope you enjoy it! :D

**(Right now, she wanted him to touch her all over.)**

She shivered when he placed his hand on her back. He moved slowly, carefully, and she had the sense that he was doing everything so deliberately for her benefit. Maybe he thought she was scared or nervous or second-guessing things. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't. She wanted to tell him that she had wanted this for so long. For too long.

She felt her skin heat up, just thinking of all those months she'd spent alone and he'd spent with someone else. She wondered if it would offend him if he ever learned how much she'd thought about him. After so many quiet, sleepless nights, she'd lost count of how many times he'd entered her mind and she'd entertained fantasy after fantasy to put herself to sleep just for a few more hours.

"Gabriela?" His voice was quiet and low behind her, and she smiled reflexively. He still called her by her surname at work, and the others called her Gaby on occasion, but she loved to hear him call her Gabriela. Her name had never sounded so good except when it came from his lips.

His hands were on her waist now, cupping her hips lightly. A few of his fingers had snuck beneath the hem of her t-shirt and were caressing her skin. She closed her eyes. She loved feeling him touch her. Somehow, each time they were together, he was able to make her feel like it was the first time all over again. He placed his hands on her body with such care and awe every time that he never failed to make her feel special, like she was something to be treasured and protected and cared for, not just used quickly and then thrown aside. Tonight, his tender actions only made her want more—and _so_ much more at that. Right now, she wanted him to touch her all over.

She turned in his arms, stepping closer once they were face to face. His hands slid behind her hips and cupped her back, now unashamedly slipping beneath her top. She smiled, looking up at him. Her hands drifted from his forearms to his chest. She fiddled with the buttons on his shirt there, watching him.

"You're sure?" She whispered, blinking up at him. "You sure you want to do this… tonight, Matt?" His face was dark, nearly completely in shadow, and she was suddenly very appreciative of just how little light there was in the room. She glanced over to the dresser by the door, smiling faintly at the candles sitting on top of it. Their flames danced, reaching tall above their inch-long wicks and foot-long bases. She wondered how short the candlesticks would be by the end of the night. She wondered if she'd even remember to check. She hoped not.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

His quiet voice drew her back, and when she looked back up at him, she saw a small smile playing on his lips. She couldn't help but smile back. One of her hands rose to cup his cheek. She ran her thumb beneath his lower lip as she spoke. He had such wonderful lips.

"I've always been sure," she replied, and she was no longer talking about her late-night dreaming. She licked her lips. "I… I've been sure about you for a long time, Matt. Years." She blinked up at him, and while her words tugged at his heart, she didn't sound sad. She just wanted him to understand. "I only… I only want to know that you're as sure as I am. I don't want this to be a one-night thing. I already know it's not," she added quickly, "but—"

"Nothing with you has ever been or will ever be about just one night," he replied at once. She detected a heated edge to his tone, and it made her happy. She knew then that he was telling the truth. "You should know that by now," he added, and she could tell just by his tone of voice that he was frowning.

"I do," she whispered, bringing her other hand up to frame his face. "I do know it." She offered him a small, satisfied smile. "I just like hearing you say it, is all," she murmured quietly.

Without another word, she leaned up to meet him and he bent down to receive her. Halfway between, where their lips met, their twin desires sparked and caught flame. They burned thousands of degrees hotter than the flickering flames across the room.

Her skin was drenched with sweat. Her hair was in complete disarray. She was panting loudly, and heavily.

And yet he was looking up at her like she was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

He was captivated by her, and it was so obvious to see on his face that even she noticed. She smiled to herself, ducking her head down to kiss him so he wouldn't see how much his reaction secretly pleased her. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, moaning softly at the way his caressed hers.

He grunted deep in his throat when she angled her body differently than before above his. He adjusted himself beneath her, pushing into her scorching, wet heat again, and she couldn't help but cry out at the angle with which he re-entered her. She tore her lips from his, clutching the headboard in front of them desperately to support herself as a sharp bolt of pleasure hit her nervous center. She was panting harder than ever; he'd just hit that special spot inside of her so few ever had, and it caused pinpricks of light to explode at the edges of her darkened vision.

As she rested atop him, still gasping for breath, his hands roamed over her damp backside. He stroked the line of her spine for a short while before allowing his hands to descend lower. She wiggled her ass lightly as his hands passed over it, and, even breathless as she was, she couldn't help but grin and laugh a little when he squeezed it. She caught his eye; he was smiling up at her in that way that made her feel like no one but her had ever made him happy.

Gently, his hands kneaded her ass, rhythmically coaxing her to resume their lovemaking. She bent down to kiss him—she'd caught her breath by this time—and she was eager to squander it all on deep kisses and even deeper thrusts. Her whole body quivered at the thought of his last penetration. It had nearly made her entire body give out; it had been _that_ pleasurable. She wanted to feel it again, yes, but at the same time, she wanted this night to last.

She pulled back from the kiss, leaning her forehead against his. His lips sought hers immediately, and she gave into a few more chaste kisses before separating their mouths. She cupped his face in her hands, feeling that familiar stubble beneath her fingertips. She traced the shape of his lower lip with her thumb again as she stared into his eyes.

"I don't want this to be over yet," she whispered. She tried not to sound desperate, but she knew that her words probably ended up sounding like a plea.

"It doesn't have to be." He sat up, his arms rising to wrap around her back to hold them together. A breathy moan escaped her mouth when his hardened penis brushed against her swollen clitoris as he leaned upwards to meet her. His hands rubbed her sides soothingly. "It doesn't have to be over yet," he murmured, bending forward to kiss her again. One of his hands reached around to stroke the side of her jaw gently. He looked into her eyes. "D'you trust me, Gabriela?"

Her nod was immediate, automatic. He could have asked her that question ten months ago and her reply would have been the same. She had trusted him completely for so long now, she couldn't quite remember a time before he hadn't been the main pillar of support in her life.

Slowly, he moved forward, causing her to fall backwards as he advanced. His legs moved underneath them and then spread into a kneeling position above her as she settled back against the bed. She closed her eyes momentarily when her back hit the bit of the bedspread that had been kicked to the end of the bed earlier in the evening.

Blindly, she reached out for him. His hands found hers at once and folded them into his safely before pinning them against the bed. He bent his head down, kissing the exposed length of her bronzed throat before lowering the rest of his body to hers. She hissed softly, sucking air in between her teeth, as his member sank into her heat once again. He squeezed her hands in his, their fingers brushing against the rumpled bedspread as their muscles flexed in response to one another.

"Matt," she whispered urgently as he withdrew from her and thrust back inside. She gasped as the head of his member brushed against that sensitive spot inside her again.

"It'll last," he promised, grunting with exertion and tightly controlled desire. Sweat was beading on his brow again, and dripping down the sides of his face. "I'll make it last, I told you."

But she was shaking her head beneath him and her hands were struggling to free themselves from his. "No, I—" She broke off, and he stopped completely as she stared up at him with widened, worried eyes.

No? _No? _What did _no _mean? He blinked, realizing all at once.

"You want me to stop," he whispered, already pulling away from her. He wrenched his hands from hers, rocking back to withdraw himself from her. Shame and anger and guilt were burning through his body and twisting the contents of his stomach. He wanted to throw up. What had he done? Had she told him to stop before and he'd missed it? Or worse, ignored her? How could he have done that to her; moreover, how could she have _let _him? Her hesitance from earlier tonight suddenly made so much sense. But if she hadn't wanted this, why hadn't she told him earlier? He shut his eyes, trying to quell the overwhelming sense of vertigo that was attempting to overtake him.

"Matt… Matt…" Her voice came to him as if from a very far distance away. "Matt, please…"

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, and tried to move further away from her. When he tried, though, she held him in place. He didn't know when she had moved, but at some point she had, and now her legs were locked around his waist, keeping him close.

"Look at me." Her voice was a bit clearer now. "Casey, look at me. Matt. _Matt._"

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter for a second before finally snapping them open. His eyes found hers at once, and staring into them, he felt a knife twist in his gut. There were tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice scratchy and shame-filled. "I'm so sorry, I…" He trailed off, wanting to touch her, to console her… But of course she would want none of his comfort.

"What are you apologizing for?" She asked, her sharp eyes zeroing in on him. "What do you have to be s—sorry about?" She asked, swiping quickly at her eyes quickly.

"You wanted me to stop," he replied at once, "and I didn't."

To his confusion, she shook her head. And then she _smiled. _"Matt, that isn't what I was trying to tell you."

He stared at her for a long minute, trying to puzzle out if she was telling the truth. It didn't take long for him to decide—they'd been around each other long enough now that the truth was as obvious as a lie. "Well…" He trailed off, slowly returning to her embrace. His body descended to once again rest atop hers; her arms wrapped around his back and burrowed into his hair. He stroked her cheek gently with a hand, once again asking for forgiveness. "If you weren't trying to tell me to stop, what _were _you trying to tell me?" He wondered quietly, staring down into her dark brown eyes.

She stared back at him for so long he practically forgot the question he'd asked by the time she stirred. She didn't try to answer his question; no, instead, her hands left his hair and slipped down his body. They didn't pause as they traveled past his waistline, where she then fisted his erection with confidence.

He screwed up his eyes, attempting to focus on anything else except that her hand was clutching his hard penis like that; he felt like he might let go at any moment and he would much prefer to be _inside _her when that moment came.

"Come here," she whispered, using a hand to guide him back to her warmth.

They both sucked in loud breaths as his cock speared through her wet heat again. She shut her eyes, reaching up to pull his mouth to hers for a fiery kiss as he moved within her. For many more seconds, all that could be heard in the room were the sounds of their lips meeting and breaking, the sounds of their bodies consuming one another's. When their mouths eventually had to part for air, she could tell he had moved his focus onto their oncoming release, and she didn't ask him to slow down this time around. He quickly found that special spot inside of her again, and for a short time, each thrust of his body inside hers had her crying out in pleasure and then gasping for her lost breath.

It came as no surprise to either of them that they hit their release together. It came quickly this time; they had denied themselves that final pleasure for too long, and it took them over the edge with a vengeance that left the two severely lightheaded for many minutes afterwards.

Neither said a word after their orgasmic shouts died down. She wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her close, and as their bodies came down from their highs, shaking and cooling, they did nothing more than hold one another in silence. When the trembling finally died away, he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. Her skin still felt warm—though it was considerably cooler than it had been at the height of their coupling—and he buried his face into that warmth. He kissed her, again and again, before finally wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight. She did the same—or had she been holding him like that all the while?

Her chin was resting on his shoulder when he heard her speak. Her hands had been clutching his sides, but now they rose, cupping the top of his back to hold him fast to her. He got the distinct feeling that she was worried he was about to run away, and when she spoke, he realized why.

"I love you, Matt," she whispered in his ear, and time then stood still for what felt like a very long time.

He blinked, his gaze suddenly focusing on the candles on the far side of the room. They were nearly burned down all the way to their ends. Slowly, he became aware of a low buzzing in his ears. It reminded him of going temporarily deaf, like one would after hearing a loud blast or getting a particularly bad headache, and he wondered if he'd imagined those words she'd just said or… Had she actually said them? Did she mean them?

He could feel the firmness of her grip on his back again and he knew at once that, yes, she had said them; yes, she had meant them. And she was terrified that he didn't feel the same way. He recalled the wide, worried look in her eyes earlier… He swallowed, realizing that this was what she'd wanted to tell him earlier. This is what she'd wanted to tell him while they were having sex.

_No, _a voice in his head corrected automatically, _that wasn't sex. That was—_

Making love.

He blinked, letting the flames of the candles swim before his eyes for a second before forcing his vision to focus. That's what this night had been about—lovemaking. He tilted his head, pressing it closer to her. He had made love with women before, certainly. It wasn't a new occurrence to him. But tonight, with Gabriela… This had been something so much different than anything he'd done with anyone else before. He wasn't even sure he could but it into words, but he knew the feeling was different. It was realer, truer, more concrete.

He suddenly knew that he could point to her and say with complete honesty, _I love her._

The thought didn't scare him, nor did it surprise him. He figured this feeling had probably been there a long time—slowly growing, expanding, building…to this very moment.

He pressed one last kiss into the crook of her neck before pulling away. He could tell from the way her hands gripped his back desperately that she didn't want to let go. She didn't want to face him; not yet. But she had to; they both knew that. Gently, he reached around, loosening her grip and leaning away a couple inches.

Her eyes didn't meet his as their embrace broke. He licked his lips as he reached out, cupping her chin lightly in his hands and raising it so she'd look into his eyes. He rubbed her cheeks lightly with the pads of his thumbs as he stared at her. He knew she was desperate to hear confirmation of his own feelings, but he also knew she wouldn't want him to lie—and neither did he. He didn't want to blurt it out. He wanted to take his time, so she would know that he meant it. He wanted her to know that he wasn't just returning a favor or being polite when he said the words.

So he held her gaze as he leaned forward, and kissed her—once, twice—he wanted to kiss her a third time, but he forced himself to pull back. He caressed her cheeks again, and stared deeply into her eyes as he finally spoke.

"I love you too, Gabriela."

Author's Note: Reviews would be greatly appreciated. This was a spur-of-the-moment fic, and I would love to hear how I did. :)


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